Welcome to the Family
by LunaAzul788
Summary: On the eve of her wedding, Aveline hides away to be left alone with cumbersome thoughts of having to leave the South, until a certain and most unexpected old Assassin comes by to assuage her woes. [Assassin's Creed A.U.]


**Welcome to the Family**

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It was the eve of my wedding, and I was anything but nervous. I couldn't wait to be in my husband's arms and life, albeit I was leaving everything familiar. From the south, I was moving to the north—leaving the city I grew up in and the few yet remarkable friends I have, becoming part of a much larger, close-knit clan.

I sat on the roof of the red brick home, my fiancé already asleep in his room. Perhaps it was my nature. I was restless, impulsive. My fiancé found something in me he could relate to. His paternal-side of the family was charismatic, calculating, confident, and outgoing. It was easy to get lost in a family like theirs. Yet as for me, I counted on two hands the people I knew well.

We decided to hold the wedding in the chapel of Father Timothy, a minute's walk away from Connor's homestead. His family accounted for most of the invitations we had so carefully inscribed, including acquaintances, friends, and neighbors—people who have grown so fond of him and loved him ever since. He gave them all a new start in life, after all. It was simply easier to transport Gérald and a handful of my Assassin brothers to his hometown than ship an entire community that could easily fill the Saint Louis Cathedral.

I felt compelled to gaze at the stars as if asking for some serenity, courage, and wisdom. Would we make it? Would Gérald fare by himself handling our flourishing business in the South? Would I regret leaving my brotherhood to the Assassin I have barely trained?

My thoughts clouding and overwhelming my emotions, the panic must have been marked clearly on my face. I heard soft footsteps click against the brick of the rooftop and jumped at the slightest. Connor's grandfather, Edward, beamed me a smile, his face flushing red and a bottle of fine rum on his left hand. It was a wonder how he got to climb at his sozzled state. He sat beside me and placed an arm over my shoulder.

"Beautiful evening, isn't it, lass? How are you?"

I managed to muster a sheepish smile. "Fine," I lied.

He handed me the bottle, and I hesitated for a minute before taking it from his hands, pulling out the cork, and gulped down a modest amount. I recognized immediately that it was Cuban rum disguised in an English wine bottle. Typical Grandpa Edward.

"Couldn't get Haytham to drink so…" He shrugged his shoulders, and I laughed at his mischief. Of all Connor's family members, I remembered how the Kenway patriarch was the easiest to speak to.

"Thanks, I… I actually needed that," I told him.

Smiling, he rubbed my shoulder before digging into his breast pocket and held out a faded picture. "Funny looking woman, isn't she?"

I studied the picture. It was a woman with a strong jaw and red lips drawn into a thin smirk, her piercing eyes staring into a distance only imagination could visualize. "She's beautiful, _pépé_. But she isn't Grandma Tessa, is she?"

He shook his head. "Aye, lass—her name was Mary. Mary Read. She reminds me of you. Wily and brave as she was compassionate. She was my good mate, you see. An Assassin, she was as well."

I returned my gaze to the picture. Mary wasn't this typical classic beauty whose hair and dress would be coiffed in a supercilious style of a long-gone past. Rather, she had a peculiar coat similar to those of the famed pirates of yore. And Grandpa Edward admired her as he does me. I felt my heart silently swell. "She must have quite a story to tell," I remarked.

"Aye. It was because of her that I joined the Assassins. We've been through a lot together."

I shook my head knowingly; Connor had told me all about them. About how an Assassin disguised as a pirate saw the potential in a greedy man such him. They survived many death-defying adventures, both in sea and land. They brought comfort to one another in times of turmoil. No one saw it—no one knew, but Mary Read had the greatest impact on Edward James Kenway. That's why he was here with us today. He was here on the rooftop with me.

His voice cracked, and he smiled warmly—identical to the one that had captivated my heart when I first saw Connor smile. "Every year that goes by, I miss her more. That's what takes you through the hard times." He put his hand over mine. "If you will love my grandson just half as much as I love Mary, you'll make it."

Tears brimmed my eyes at the reflection of his words—his legacy. I could sit and worry about the past, about the differences between my husband and me. Or I could live in the present and simply love the man that was to be my husband. I chose the latter.

I have not seen Grandpa after four long years; but on the Christmas of the year 1787, the Kenways had their long-awaited reunion. I watched my husband speak to his parents, our jovial daughter clutching on to him. His mother never lost that smile that could warm a thousand hearts, while his father was as polished as ever. The sight before me was like a painted picture to last a lifetime. I looked around the room and finally saw Grandpa Edward, sitting by the lounge, speaking to some old friends over their old-fashioned on the rocks. As I made my approach, the words I would tell him aligned freely in my mind. I'd thank him for the night he comforted a nervous young bride. Then I'd tell him I love his grandson every bit as much as he loved Mary.

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**Author's Note: I just wanted to write a really short but sweet featurette for Edward Kenway and his granddaughter-in-law, Aveline de Grandpré. I guess that Edward would be that kind of warm-hearted grandpa who'd talk out the bride from her wedding jitters. After this story, I got inspired to write a Christmas special! I hope you'd all get to enjoy reading it for the holidays. **

**Cheers and Happy Holidays!**


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